Golden Years
by Lenidrabbles
Summary: Phèdre/Joscelin. 100-words snippets of their lives between 'Kushiel's Chosen' and 'Kushiel's Avatar'.
1. color, risk, questions

**DISCLAIMER:** Jacqueline Carey created them and did such a fabulous work that it's almost impossible to find an aspect of her characters she hasn't touched, expounded and written into perfect prose. ((Still, a girl gotta try.))  
**WORDCOUNT:** 13x100  
**SUMMARY:** Snippets of Joscelin's life between _Kushiel's Chosen_ and _Kushiel's Avatar_.  
**FEEDBACK:** I LOVE it. especially when you mention your favorite. *g*  
**A.N.:** prompts from **12_stories** (LJ comm)

_Written for **writercon100** (LJ comm). **Matching request:****fandom_of_one**._

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**GOLDEN YEARS  
**_by Leni_

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**Colour.**

White was Skaldia. White like the snow locking them up, ice white like Phèdre's cheeks when Gunter's thanes returned with Terre d'Ange blood on their swords. White like death, like the taste of failure, only to have her kiss him, lips that'd once been scarlet turning…

…blue. Murky blue. Gunmetal and merle swirling in La Serenissima waters. Losing Phèdre. Finding Phèdre. Phèdre falling and sinking and….

"You are so far away, my love." Soft fingers traveled up his chest.

Joscelin caught her hand, always marveled that she wore no marks of their travels. Kissed it. "But I always come back."

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**Risk.**

"They say there is many an empty room at Montrève," said one of the Souza cousins. "Maybe the Comtesse will have the time to decorate them now?"

_Now_ that Phèdre had refused most of her patrons. "I haven't asked," he said, all courtesy.

"Leave the Cassiline alone, darling," her lover laughed, the glass of _joie_ hanging in his hand obviously far from the first. "Much as I despair of your sharp tongue, I wouldn't risk losing it to Messire Verreuil's sword."

"It was a harmless question!" the girl protested, a well-practiced pout on her lips.

Joscelin bowed and walked away.

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**Questions**

Terre d'Ange whispered his name long after the songs of victory had been sung. A Cassiline Brother. A Siovale son. A Queen's favorite.

Caught in Naamah's spell.

They exchanged conjectures of deceit, of having entered Delaunay's service only to seek favors from the notorious Naamah's servants in the household. They dreamed awake of Phèdre's skills, seduction tendrils so tempting they lured even a child of Cassiel.

None could guess at a small cave in the wilderness, blessed by gods and fortune.

None could divine the hundred steps taken, the thousand questions with impossible answers.

They whispered and pointed.

Let them.

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**TBC...**

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	2. truth, watching, rules

_thanks to _RmGuccione and _Moocow for the reviews. :)_

**A.N.:** prompts from **12_stories** (LJ comm)

_Written for **writercon100** (LJ comm). **Matching request:****fandom_of_one**._

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**GOLDEN YEARS  
**_by Leni_

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**Truth.**

"I don't need new clothes," Joscelin said again.

Her responding smile was indulging at best. "You never do." Phèdre's ringless fingers tapped against his shoulders, having straightened his collar into perfect symmetry. "Now, Joscelin, do summon a smile before Favrielle comes in, or she shall lecture _me_ for your lack of grace."

One blond eyebrow raised. Kushiel's Chosen bowed only to the whims of gods and fate - and her temperamental seamstress. "She is hardly one to complain."

Phédre laughed as she gave him a final once-over. "True. But my valiant Cassiline," she caressed his cheek, "don't let her hear that."

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**Watching.**

"Naahmah's tits!" Ti-Philippe yelled when the carriage wouldn't budge.

At his side, Joscelin sucked in a breath when the wheel creaked in warning. "Phèdre, mind the horses," he said too late. After some ineffectual attempts to call the animals back, he set his jaw and offered his arm to Phèdre. "Milady, shall we walk home?"

Phèdre nodded.

They halted at the sound of a chuckle, then a laugh, and turned to Ti-Philippe askance.

The chevalier was watching them, holding onto his stomach. "The Queen's Champion and Kushiel's Chosen… stranded on the road." He started laughing anew. "What a glorious tale!"

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**Rules.**

The City of Elua was abuzz at the heir's first birthday. On their ride to the Palace, Joscelin noticed the cheerful flowers decorating both rich and poor façades. Men and women met on the streets, congratulating each other as if the babe were theirs. "To think, Sidonie doesn't even walk yet."

"Terre d'Ange cheers for the Dauphine, as it is their right," Phèdre told him, lessons learned at Delaunay's knees rolling from her tongue. "Just as any child is celebrated at home, so is a monarch in their land."

"As long as they rule fairly."

Phèdre's face darkened. "If only."

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**TBC...**

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	3. decisions,betrayal,loyalty ABC DRABBLE

_thanks to _Funsmoke for the advice. I did take it, and the changes are at the LJ post. I would love to know the typos you're talking about, though. What's writing for if not to improve?

Moocow and bazjack. THANK YOU! I'm glad you're enjoying these snippets.

**A.N.:** prompts from **12_stories** (LJ comm)

_Written for **writercon100** (LJ comm). **Matching request:****fandom_of_one**._

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**GOLDEN YEARS  
**_by Leni_

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**Decisions.**

Joscelin knew what the parchment read from the moment Phèdre opened it.

Phèdre loved Ysandre's invitations. Not only because the two young women had little chance to converse otherwise, but also because these invitations provided the perfect opportunity to prove that the Comtesse of Montrève lived up to her name.

Court games were a dim memory in Montrève but, raised under a courtier's tutelage, even her love of Siovalese land couldn't dim the pleasure in Phèdre's eyes when the Queen requested their presence.

"Are we going?"

She looked at him, wavering. "I haven't decided yet…."

Joscelin smiled. "Yes, you have."

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**Betrayal.**

Joscelin kept his eyes to the blooming gardens as the child on his lap played with his ponytail. "Spring finally seems to make her way to the City."

On the other side of the table, Ysandre lifted clear eyes and gazed at her daughter. "Elua be blessed," she whispered. Sidonie seemed to sense the change in her mother's mood, and turned her dark eyes to her. Ysandre offered a small smile of reassurance. "A child needs their father, Joscelin. One day you'll understand."

He nodded and kept his silence, knowing that any word would betray his doubts on the subject.

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**Loyalty.**

"Make sure there is plenty hot water," Joscelin told Ti-Philippe, grasping at an even tone less he barked the words in frustration.

The younger man took a look at him, nodded and hurried into the kitchens.

Joscelin let out a growl as he arranged her favorite soaps and perfumes around the bathtub.

Sometimes he wished he were still an _anguisette_'s bodyguard, to be the one sizing up her patrons before she submitted to them, to know at a first glance as she left the unfamiliar apartments what her needs were.

Other times he wondered how he'd ever lived through it.

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**TBC...**

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I tried to host this at eluaschildren but I was told that it was a fic only community. So, let's see if this works.

**KUSHIEL ABC DRABBLING.**

Basically, you choose a prompt/character and I write the drabble. If you're interested, visit kitteninthedark dot livejournal dot com slash 136003 dot html


	4. passion, nature, forgiveness bonus

**A.N.:** prompts from **12_stories** (LJ comm)

_Written for **writercon100** (LJ comm). **Matching request:****fandom_of_one**._

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**GOLDEN YEARS  
**_by Leni_

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**Passion.**

Phèdre let out a joyful laugh as she arched her body up into him. "Oh, Joscelin," she murmured, tracing a thin scar on his shoulder with the backside of her fingernails. "Oh, love…." She laughed again as he teased her midriff, eyes wide and caught between passion and surprise.

In all the volumes she and Alcuin had studied, had they ever come across a chapter on the simplicity of improvisation?

Joscelin kissed her nose, eliciting another giggle.

"What are you doing to me?" she asked, escaping from his hands only to return again.

This time he laughed. "I don't know."

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**Nature.**

He would never share Phèdre's fondness of sleep, Joscelin thought as he left his childhood room.

"Son."

He shouldn't have been surprised to find his father in the common room, an open book on his lap; but in Montrève, it was only him and nature until Eugènie bustled in to light the fires. Wracking his head for something to say, Joscelin sat across his father.

The years apart only brought silence.

"It's easier when the women are around," the older man said with a wry grin.

Joscelin nodded. "But louder."

Sharing a conspiring smile, both men settled in to read.

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**_(Bonus.)_**

Only one thing made Palace functions bearable: dancing with Phèdre, flaunting his right as her Consort to have her complete attention where nobody else would. "Percival's youngest will make you an offer," he commented, already knowing her answer.

Indeed, her nose wrinkled a little. "Little Ronald?" She shook her head. "He'd be better served at the Night Court -" From the relative shelter between his arms, she gave the blackhaired youngster an evaluating look "- at Jasmine House."

"He shall be disappointed, then. He sounded very confident in himself."

"He asked _you_?"

"He did." Joscelin chuckled. "Perhaps he's suited for Mandrake instead?".

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**Forgiveness.  
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"Come with me," Phèdre said. "The games are starting."

"I would rather look after Alais." His eyes followed the rambunctious three-year-old around the room, wondering how she had managed to escape her nurses again.

There must have been something in his eyes beyond the amusement - or Phèdre was really that good at reading him. The latter, he decided as she faced away, a whispered "I'm sorry" traveling the space between them.

He grabbed her by her upper arms before she could slip away. "There is nothing," and he repeated the word because she needed to understand this, "_nothing_ to forgive."

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**The End  
**16/04/09

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I hope you enjoyed this miniature collection. I'd love to hear which drabble was your favorite.

_Next: ABC drabbles (all characters)._


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